Ok now that you wrote angst can you please write jj fluff or literally anything except angst (I can't handle it I really do miss my dead wife)
pov. it’s no secret you’re cocky. others can see it through the way you walk, how you talk to yourself, and others. so when jj brings it up about how he loves it, you’re confused, so to show you what he means; he copies you.
content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, pure fluff, short fic, teasing
the chateau was loud in the background, john b and pope arguing over bait while you made your way up from the dock with that same easy confidence that you carried everywhere. your chin was up, your stride loose, and when you managed to catch the cooler before it slipped from your hand, you smirked to yourself beneath your breath like you’d just won an olympic medal.
jj, perched on the railing with a beer bottle dangling from his fingers, snorted. “i love that,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “that look.” he mentions. you shot him a glance. “what look?” you ask.
“the one that says, ‘yeah, i know i’m awesome.” he teased as he hopped down from the railing before you could answer, immediately slipping into an overdone version of your walk. his shoulders rolled back, he tossed his hair from his face with a dramatic flick, and muttered, “damn, i’m good,” loud enough for everyone to hear.
pope groaned while jj pointed at himself with a grin. “tell me i’m wrong.” he said. you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. jj spread his arms, eyes bright with mischief. “see? that’s what i’m talkin’ about. you walk around like you own the damn island.” he said as his grin softened just a touch as he nudged your shoulder with his.
“i like it. keeps the rest of us on our toes.” he teased as his brows danced, and he flashed you that unmistakable smile he always does, all sun and trouble, already bracing for whatever comeback you were about to throw his way.
but before you can fire back, he snatches a pair of sunglasses from the cooler and slides them on upside down. “check it out,” he announces to absolutely no one, “i’m the coolest person on the island and also, apparently, legally required to admire myself in every reflective surface.” he teased.
he immediately walks straight into the screen door of the chateau, then there’s a couple seconds of silence.
jj peels himself off the mesh with all the dignity of a wet cat. “that,” he declares, pointing at the door, “was the island being intimidated by my confidence.” he continued from the porch, pope doesn’t even look up. “the door says it won.” pope muttered and then you laughed loudly, not being able to even fake like you weren’t laughing. “oh my god, why would you say that.” you said, laughing still.
